You forget a thousand things everyday pal, but this ain't one of 'em
by I-am-the-Peel
Summary: "Promise me you'll get me out of this shit alive, T" "I swear Franklin, upon my life, as God is my witness, I will get you out of this train wreck". After the IAA and Niko Bellic begin hunting down our infamous trio, Trevor makes the daring decision in bringing Franklin to Las Venturas, where he plans to prepare him for, and protect him from, the greatest threat he will ever face.
1. Chapter 1: In Loving Matrimony

**Hello all,**

**Here's a new GTA story that I decided to post after being so hyped up from finishing GTA V. I have to say, I love the main characters of the game, but I just couldn't accept that they'd happily retire as millionaires and get on with their lives as friends. I don't know whether I'll continue it as I'm really busy atm, but if I get enough responses, I'll try to continue this story.**

**Leave your opinions in a review, or pm me if you want to see more to this story! *May be my first GTA Fanfic, but definitely not my first fanfic ever.***

* * *

Niko's reddened eyes flickered back and forth as he frantically observed the Russian gangsters in front of him, pouring cans of gasoline all over the casket with perverse glimmers of anguish in their eyes and crimson blood smeared across their grins, and was reduced to begging for a different ending to his adversary.

"You don't need to kill him brutally – Just put a bullet in his head and be done with it, no guy deserves to be burned to the fucking stake!" Niko provokingly sneered; he tried to pull one of the burly gangsters away with his arms, until Agent Swiane butted his sawn-off shotgun into his temple again, and drew him further away as the gangsters continued their work, the former's shotgun now fixated closer to Niko's temple.

"Trevor Phillips has to die either way Niko – Let the Russians have their fun, we owe them anyway, if Karen was here, she'd agree…" Agent Swaine begrudgingly ordered, he watched as the Russians struggled to contain the captive even with all of their might, and were reduced to covering the top of the casket with boxes filled with cocaine that they had stolen days beforehand, it was worth it especially if they could get the violent psychopath out of their lives and get back to business, whilst Niko stood, slowly drawing out a small combat pistol from his tracksuit pants, but at the same time, was unsure whether to go against his orders and save a man who had tried to kill him multiple times in the past.

"ARGH! WHEN I GET OUT OF HERE, I'M GOING TO CELEBRATE WITH FIREWORKS - WITH YOUR ENTRAILS!" Trevor snarled with great temper, he was slowly starting to lose his breath as the casket drew closer and closer to Trevor's Purgatory, his garishly razzed fists began to draw a sleek crimson line of blood oozing onto the dealer's face, and as he began panting with the rising heat, Niko finally made his decision.

"I never liked you anyway Swiane…This is for Karen!" Niko frustratingly thundered, he swiftly swiped the shotgun out of Swiane's hands as his attention was fixated on the coffin, and knocked him to the ground flawlessly with a single clash from the end of the shotgun. Niko then began firing pellets at the Russian gangsters, the victory belonged to the merciless assassin, as the Russians were tired and drenched from trying to move the coffin quicker into the furnace, and were also un-expecting to Niko's sudden treachery, a trait that Niko had at one point detested in people.

"SAVE SOME FOR ME NICKY! GET ME OUTTA THE FRYER!" Trevor frantically screeched, he was tossing and turning inside the coffin, hoping to shake off the boxes of cocaine away from the box so he'd have a better chance of making a daring escape, however his hastiness wasn't necessary, as Niko had finished his bloodlust. "NIKO – HIT THE SWITCH!"

"Gimme a minute!" Niko gallingly pleaded, he began searching around in the small room by the furnace for the switch, or the button, or whatever the convenient device was that would secure the life of Trevor, however time was truly not on his side, and as his cold pale hands began to shake, Trevor's screams grew inhumanely louder, like that of a lion that anticipated an unforgiving massacre.

"Where the fuck is this switch!?" Niko began pacing around the room and wiped the sweat off his forehead, he wasn't thinking straight as if he was, he'd knew to just simply push the coffin off the conveyor belt, and as he was finally beginning to attempt this, he found it was attached to parts of the belt, as if it was a true slaughterhouse.

Niko's pupils widened with fear, as he began to search his mind for ideas, all the while Trevor began accepting his fate, his eyes shutting with a pure mellow tear flowing past his chapped cheek, and his hands clenching whilst shaking repeatedly in an anxious wait….

* * *

**Four months earlier...**

Location - Ginger Street/ Little Seoul – Los Santos

1200 hrs October 6 2013

Franklin Clinton outside the Rockford Hills Church

…

The glimmer of sunlight left the front bonnet of the Buffalo, and retreated across the street towards the ceremony, submerging the driver back into the shade, letting him wallow as his eyes surrendered with soft tears dribbling across his cheeks. His hands were placed firmly on the leather of the driving wheel, whilst his brows clenched as he fought away his emotions and brought himself to look at his rival, the man who had managed to steal what the young millionaire had treasured most.

He stood wearing a tuxedo, sweat oozing across his face whilst his best men stood patting him on the back, soothing his nerves before he made one of the biggest decisions in his life, but for a brain surgeon, he could not help but show visible natural signs of fear. As every horrid thought rang through his head of what could be and what shall not be, the groom wandered away from the church, into a darkened alley across the road, whilst all of the guests looked in in confusion. As Franklin got out of his Buffalo to give chase, the bride arrived in her Stretch limousine, and despite his resistance, Franklin had to give one final glance at the woman he once called his lover.

"Man, I never thought she'd look better…What kinda fool would run away from her?" Franklin bewildered, then heard the panting of the groom in the alleyway, and continued with his mission. "Hey, wait up homie!"

"I…I can't do it! I can't vow to give my life away just like that!" The groom cried, he loosened the tie on his suit and ran his fingers through his greasy hair, the neatness of his complexion ruined by his own insecurities.

"Look bro, you made a commitment to that girl, and she gave you her heart, now you gonna throw that away? If you don't make your vows, then all the time you spent with her will be for nothing, and she'll be devastated…" Franklin roared, he pinned the groom against the wall by his neck, and forced him to listen to his lecture. "Taneesh, she's not like most girls…She's sensitive – Strong – but vulnerable, and her heart brings out the best in people. If you throw her heart away, you may as well be killing her. And I ain't gonna let that happen. You're gonna go out there, and give her the life she deserves".

"Ho-How do I know, that'll I'll be enough?" He begged, trying to regain his breath after Franklin brought his hands away from the neck, whilst walking slowly out of the alleyway, looking out at the church.

"You don't, and you'll never know. But she does, and that's all you need man. She's stayed with'chu this long, and she hasn't come all this way in a wedding dress just to leave your ass." Franklin encouraged, he picked up the man's tie from the ground, and put it back on the man's suit, and walked out of the alleyway with him. "Now get back there, and keep her safe."

"Thanks bro, I owe you big time…Do you, do you wanna co-"

BAAM!

Franklin jumped to the ground with panic as he took cover behind the white Buffalo, looking back to check on the groom, but it was too late; one swift merciless bullet to the skull was all it took to end his valued life. The sounds of the gunshot continued to scream through Franklin's head, and as he brought himself back up with his face in his hands, he opened his eyes to meet the horror of the crowd across the street, but only one pair was enough to make Franklin feel ashamed; Tanisha's eyes were black with eyeshadow that covered the top half of her face with the matrimonial tears spreading it across her once elegant face. Sirens drew closer to the area, as Franklin knew he had to leave quickly, as no one would believe him; he wasn't even invited to the wedding after all. He threw himself into the driver's seat, and took one glance at the side mirror towards the corpse; the brain had split into two and was pooling into the drains, and the bloodstains on his suit were enough to build an image into Franklin's mind that he would never be able to shake away again.

The car's engine snarled with aggression as the Buffalo drove with haste away from the Church, and towards Vinewood Hills, where Franklin could get back to his house so that he could figure out what he was going to do next. He knew however, only one person would be able to help through the situation, both literally, and emotionally. Franklin drew out his phone and began dialling his mentor's number.

"Hey, what's going on kid?" came a familiar voice from the retired thief, Franklin's heart pumped louder after listening to the calm tone.

"Mike, I'm in trouble dog, I need your help quick!" Franklin pleaded, he was in hysterics and needed someone to help him make sense of the situation. "Come over to my house before five-0 snatch my ass!"

"Whoa Frank, calm down, whatever it is, we should be able to work it out" Michael assured, he could sense that something was truly wrong with Franklin today as his voice was breaking slightly, and he sounded like he had been crying, but Michael knew he couldn't have as that wasn't the Franklin Clinton he knew. "I'll come down soon, and I'll try to get in touch with Lester if it's a big problem, and if you need him, I'll bring T."

"Shit yeah, thanks man, just get here soon, it's all coming apart!" Franklin begged, he was still on the edge of his seat, as the same scene of Tanisha's horrified face kept flashing at him in his mind, and he was struggling to drive his Buffalo on the road.

…

3671 Whispymound Drive – Vinewood Hills

1245 hrs October 6 2013

Michael Townley and Trevor Phillips are meeting Franklin Clinton

As soon as Michael and Trevor walked through the front door, they were astounded at the sight that Franklin had unwillingly befallen upon them; his clothes carelessly tossed across the dining tables, bags full of money tucked into the corners of dusty suitcases and the framed murderer himself, was in the leisure room, taking one last glance at his recent accomplishments before bidding it all away.

"Aw Frankie, my boy, what are you doing to yourself? Spring cleaning has finished for months this year," Trevor began, Michael stood behind him in the doorway, slowly assessing the state of the house. "You don't need to spruce the place up for your elders like us, well elders like him, but hey, Michael could lend you his housecleaners if you really need some; they'd beg for the opportunity to be around a young man of stature like yourself, instead of some sugar-daddy trying to relive his youth!"

"Not the time T, and for the record, nothing ever went down between me and Eva; I'm the guy who gets people hooked up on him, not the other way around." Michael chuckled, Trevor gave him a polite smirk and began preparing his comeback, but they were interrupted by the startling sound of Franklin throwing a cache of rifles onto the kitchen table. His aggressive glare gave them reason enough to enter the mansion.

"Eh, we got more shit to worry 'bout then your middle-age bromance scare!" Frankin shouted, his outburst gave Michael a slight chuckle that he managed to conceal, whilst Trevor stood amazed by the idea of someone like Franklin giving him grief, after everything he had done for him. "Look, I'm gonna lay it out to y'all like this; I paid a visit to my ex Taneesh's wedding, but before I got the chance to give them both my blessin', some muthafucka popped the brain surgeon in the fucking head." Franklin revealed, Trevor stood playing with the guns, pretending to shoot Michael in the head as he began pouring himself a glass of wine, but Trevor stopped when he heard the irony of the brain surgeon having his head splattered all over.

"Ah, I see what's wrong now Franklin, I got the message, don't you worry," Trevor reassured, he returned the rifles and reached his arm over Franklin's shoulders, then began patting him on the chest. "Love is one of those things that you wish never came to ya', but you just can't live without, kind of like the son who crops up on your doorstep eighteen years after you gave him up for adoption, or an old prick of a friend who returns from the dead…" Michael lifted his brow at Trevor who gave him a brash smirk, and was tempted to spit the alcohol towards him, but kept his cool and swigged it away. "Besides Frankie, I wouldn't blame ya' if you needed to do whatever it takes to keep her heart close; whether it's taking out your love rival or ripping out her heart and putting it on a fuckin' pike-"

"-For fuck sake man, I didn't do shit, that's what I'm not getting!" Franklin interrupted, he pushed Trevor's arm off his slender shoulders, then swiftly took the bottle of wine away from Michael, and poured the rest of it down the sink, with Michael's jaw widening in both anger and awe. "Look guys, I've gotta get out of the city, there was witnesses that knew me, and pretty soon, my face will be plastered on all the fuckin' news channels!"

"There's only one way to be sure." Michael concluded, he picked up Franklin's TV controller off his couch, then turned on the flat screen with Trevor and Franklin following behind, with Franklin's face continuing to worry, and Trevor's still unfazed by everything before him. Michael quickly flashed through the channels, and found a news bulletin by WeazelNews.

"-eaking News, in a wedding ceremony almost an hour ago, a soon to be husband found a knot splattered out of his head – Before he could tie the knot himself. The chief suspect in this case is a young gangster known as Franklin Clinton, the ex-boyfriend to the bride, Tanisha Jackson. Ms. Jackson, has refused to give a statement as yet of time, however other members of the ceremony indeed confirmed the man's identity at the scene of the crime, and even his aunt, Denise Clinton, confirmed the killer's potential motive. This is Bryan Wilkinson, reporting live from Little Seoul, back to the studi-" After his suspicions were confirmed, Michael quickly turned off the TV after Franklin's teeth gritted with anger at hearing that his own aunt didn't bother to try and defend him, and Trevor began to back away slowly from the young two-bit gangster, who looked set to explode.

"A'ight," Franklin began, he was taking deep breaths and trying to hold his hands still as they shook with sweat. "So there's a manhunt going across the state for me right now, what do I do now?"

"Well, you do your best to become a non-existent person; you can't get any money out of your bank account since the feds will close it, so you keep all the money you've got now and keep it, and chuck out your phone too since they'll try to trace you," Michael hastily replied, remembering how he himself tried to go into hiding, and removed Franklin's phone away from him, then threw it onto the ground and smashed it with his foot. "But the main thing is to get out of town now, at least until we can prove your innocent. Only problem is, where you've gotta go that's discreet enough but close by."

"There is that one place you and me could hide in for a loooong time; you thinkin' what I'm thinkin' M?" Trevor suggested in a creepy seductive tone, whinking at Michael who looked at him in horrified confusion, then grew even more afraid when he realised the place Trevor was referring to. "All those nights, hiding behind the curtains as the sirens passed by, Lester jerking off in one room, Amanda tucking the kids in in another room, and you and me downstairs, drinking away our sorrows and arm wrestling; good times…"

"T, that's not exactly the best place Franklin can go to right now, and besides, I know why you want to go with him, and I ain't gonna let you go there; the two of you will spend a night there, then before the crack of dawn, you'll have gone across the fucking desert and hold up the casinos next door!" Michael snapped, he couldn't believe Trevor would even use the situation just for a reason to wreak havoc across the state of San Andreas again, especially regarding Franklin's safety.

"The fuck you two talking about? If it's a quiet spot, then I'll head there asap man." Franklin assured, Trevor pointed his finger at him with a sneer on his face, then looked at Michael, chuckling and shrugging his shoulders, whilst Michael shook his head in a defeated silence.

"It's a beaut-i-faall spot Frankie, a nice abandoned Airfield in Bone County, the abusive next door neighbour to Las Venturas, home to the loosest slots and sluts in all of San Andreas! Now I'm not saying, and I must put emphasis on this, that a trip around the corner into the rundown streets of LV isn't necessary, but if you ever feel like getting some steam off and getting some shame on, then Venturas is for you amigo!" Trevor revealed, Franklin at first was interested at the idea of hiding in an abandoned airfield in the middle of the desert, but as soon as he mentioned Las Venturas of all places, he fell down to the couch next to Michael and imitated his sighing.

"Trevor, do you not remember the last time you were at the airfield? You kidnapped a bunch of Triad goons, had your way with them and attracted the attention of the fucking FIB!" Michael snapped, Trevor held his arms out in disbelief and gloom, whilst Franklin's head fell further into his knees.

"Hey, you of all people don't have the fucking right to talk about bad dealings with the FIB pal, and besides, that was a long time ago, and things are okay now with our old Asian friends, just gotta make sure next time I bump into them and say 'Hello', I don't bump into their balls and say 'Batter up' at the same time. Besides, what's the alternative? Aaand, we've still got friends out there at the Airfield, and maybe that Bulgarin guys still kicking around there, him and Frankie would get on easily!" Trevor snapped, Michael's disrespect was getting on his nerves, but Trevor was still trying to defend his case for Franklin's case, and amazingly, Franklin lifted his head as soon as he heard that Trevor had friends up in the airfield.

"Ray Bulgarin was a psychotic human trafficker who was going to get himself killed, and even if he's still alive, he wouldn't have hung around Bone County; he never even stayed that long there anyway, never could stay on one place, and I wonder way…" Michael sarcastically answered back, and it was a grave mistake as Trevor could not stand his sarcasm. The two men began shouting at each other as soon as Michael pretended to act lost in thought, until Franklin interrupted them.

"ENOUGH! Mike, you're the sensible one here man, but if you've got no other ideas or good places I can hide out in, I'mma stick with Trevor on this one." Trevor jumped for joy and tried to throw Franklin in the way, until he moved backwards. "But we ain't going to Venturas; no casinos, no strip clubs, and no fucking gang wars either. We just staying in the desert till the heat's died down." Trevor's face dropped, and he let out a reluctant sigh of defeat and acceptance, and began finishing packing Franklin's luggage. "Mike, can you call up Dave Norton and see if you can figure out who the fuck killed the Brain surgeon?"

"Course I can, me and him should be able to put all of this to bed in just a few weeks, maybe even less." Michael reassured, Franklin nodded his head, then let his eyes fall to the ground. "Hey, I said I'll put all this to bed soon kid, what's wrong?" Franklin let out a sarcastic laugh, as Michael asked a profoundly stupid question, which he quickly realised.

"I think I'm finally starting to learn another one of yo' lessons man; my legs are starting to give, and I can't keep all this shit up anymore. As soon as all this over and I'm in the clear man, I'll fuckin' retire. I may only be in my twenties, but any age is the right age to retire in this career, and I should spend the rest of my life making up for the crazy shit I've caused, especially to Taneesh of all people." Franklin sighed, Michael looked to him as if he was the son who had finally grown up and was trying to get his life back together, and in many ways, saw a lot of himself in him.

"Come on kid, let's get in the car and wait for T, we'll hea-"

"LSPD! OPEN THE DOOR NOW!" barked the cadre of cops outside the house, the three men were startled at the banging on the door, and quickly realised that the cops now knew that Franklin was linked to some ways in Lester for living in his property, and henceforth, could know that Michael and Trevor were known associates of the gangster.

"Fuck! What'ta we do now?" Michael questioned, he began worrying for his own safety, knowing that he would be arrested as an accessory of murder to Franklin at the very least if not an accomplice, and that he couldn't be seen anywhere with Franklin anymore if he wanted to protect his family.

"Go out the fucking back! I'll slaughter these pigs and give you cover, head out the back and meet up at the airfield in Sandy Shores!" Trevor ordered, he grabbed one of the rifles off the table and armed himself to the teeth, and as Michael and Franklin jumped out the window, Trevor casually opened the front door to let the cops in, then surprised them with a spray of bullets at point blank range, then began to make art in his own perverse way.

Michael and Franklin ran past the swimming pool and began climbing down the cliffs, jumping into the gardens of the houses at the lower streets, and had to get to cover quickly as they could hear a helicopter in the distance.

"Damnit, the best thing we can do right now is split up! I'll head west, and you head east – I'll call Dave when I get the chance, meet up soon at Trevor's Airfield!" Michael decided, he felt disgusted at himself as he was prepared to leave Franklin to be arrested to cover his own skin and protect his family, but he knew Franklin well enough to understand that Franklin could get out of any spot. Michael climbed over one of the wooden fences as an old couple looked on from their bedroom window, whilst Franklin ran out through the main gates, hoping to jack a nearby car.

"You got it Mike!"

…

Location – Senora Freeway/Grand Senora Desert – Los Santos

1345 hrs October 6 2013

Michael De Santa heading to Sandy Shores Airfield

Michael drove with haste through the traffic gridlock in his Tailgater, almost slipping off the edge of his leathery seat as he held one hand on the driving wheel, and one hand holding his IPhone in the other, with only belligerence in his eyes as he tried to get ahead of all the drivers in front of him.

"For the fourth time Davey, he didn't fucking do it! I believe him, and after everything we've just pulled, he wouldn't just go and ruin it all deliberately just for his ex-girlfriend!" Michael roared, almost as loud as the sound of the car engine, the noise of Pure Shores fading into the background.

"With all the evidence mounting up, the fact that he was two feet away from the victim, and that he even has a clear motive – It is a little hard to believe you. You know he has had a clear head outside of work, but have you been keeping tabs on him recently? Any signs of abnormality that would stand out and would prove or disapprove his situation?" Dave interrogated, Michael kept sighing with every sentence Dave made, and he found it pestering that Dave would even consider the idea that Michael didn't know Franklin well enough outside of business.

"No, none, he's been acting like the same calm, considerate guy I've known all this time. There is one thing that stands out in his case; he said that the brain surgeon guy was sniped, but Franklin was standing beside him, meaning he couldn't have shot him from the right direction. Surely you could prove that in the files?" Michael asked, he was trying to think logically, and after all of his dealings he has had in the past with agents like Dave and Steve. He had begun to slow down in his car now as he turned to head into Sandy Shores, and saw the Airfield coming up to him, and had to swerve out of the way from two hipsters on scooters.

"Hmm, that is one theory we can put to the test and look into, but right now, you need to continue with your plan and get Trevor and Franklin out of the city; both of them. The situation will just let Trevor aggravate it further and cause unnecessary noise, and I need you here; if we are to clean up this mess up, it'll have to be off the books, and just between us." Dave assessed, Michael's face deflated with the mention of Trevor, and gave a small uplifted leer at Dave's insistence of personally dealing with the problem.

"Alright that sounds good, better than dealing with any more leisure-wearing uptight assholes by the name of 'Steve Haines'. I'll wave the guys away now, but we're gonna have to deal with this quick Dave; I mean quick."

"In that case, get off the line and get rid of the other two so we can get to work in LS, it'll all blow off soon, I'll make sure of it." Dave concluded, quickly ending the call as soon as Michael started trying to give the promoted FIB agent orders, which Michael was tempted to make a quip about, until he received a message from Amanda on the phone.

"Michael, just seen the news on TV about Franklin; promise me you'll stay away, we've gone through too much to let it all away now, I know you care about him, but your family have to come first. Come home soon, I miss you x"

By the time he finished reading the text, Michael had already mowed down a hillbilly on his dirt-bike in the desert, and had arrived a few minutes late at the Airfield. In the distance, he could see Trevor loading a few suitcases in the back of his Cuban 800, and Franklin and Lamar were arguing about the situation, with Ron and Wade observing the events before them.

"Look ma homie, I ain't complainin' bout the fact you killed Tanisha's guy, what this dude is pissed about is you leaving him outta all this shit!" Lamar shouted, him and Franklin stood squaring up to each other, with Lamar's lanky figure towering over everyone in the area.

"I told you already you dense muthafucka – My phone is being traced by the cops, so I couldn't call yo' ass! And I can't stay with you here; slingin dope on each street corner, waiting to be napped by One time is bad enough, let alone waiting for my house to be raided every fuckin' weekend!" Franklin snarled, Lamar was beginning to back away towards Ron and Wade as Franklin's temper flared at his ignorance.

"Oh I'm sorry, I didn't realise ma fuckin' lifestyle choices affected you so muthafuckin' deeply, maybe you should continue hangin round with older white boys like those two!" Lamar snapped, his jealousy and anger at the fact that everyone left him out for everything was rising by the minute, but one aggressive glare from Trevor was all it took for Lamar to stop bringing Franklin's friends into the argument.

"He has a point here Franklin; all a gangbanger from the hood wants to do is cover his boys whenever he can! And that's why he's going to willingly come with us and leave all his ties here, and become a non-existant person in the middle of the desert for a couple of weeks!" Trevor laughed, Lamar's face dropped when Trevor was finally involving him into the situation, and Franklin shook his head at the idea of bringing Lamar to Bone County, especially if Trevor was secretly planning on paying a visit to Las Venturas, however an deadly moan from Trevor was all it took to silence the debate. Michael was finally pulling up outside the plane as Trevor finished loading the back of the plane.

"Boss, I still doubt that the company will be able to survive in your absence; what if some of our old enemies return and are just waiting for you to leave, so th-the perfect opportunity to strike wo-would come?" Ron pleaded in a nervous tone, worrying with his usual theories about the worst possible outcomes of Trevor leaving him, when really, he just didn't want to have to deal with running the Enterprises alone.

"Keep nagging Ronald and I'll strike you down! – TPEnterprises is an international corporation, so we need to spread our influence across the state…Now Ronald, I have faith in you, I do, but if you start soiling yourself everytime you see a hairy biker, or a Chinese guy with glasses and a suit, or a fuckin' fellow trailer-trash shithead that don't like me no more, then you've got to step up!" Trevor warned, he placed both hands on Ron's shoulders and spoke so closely, Ron cowered at the smell of Trevor's whiskey breath, whilst Wade looked on and began walking backwards. "Besides, Mikey will be looking after most of our businesses, ain't that right Sugartits?"

Michael stepped out of his car and gave a fistbump to Franklin whilst nodding politely to Lamar. "Eh bite me T, but I've got it covered. I'll buy out Franklin's businesses before the government lease them to another investor with their hands up their asses like Devin. Should be fun, running a weed centre, a strip club and a gun-delivering airfield; Goddamn am I living the dream baby." Michael chuckled, Trevor pushed Ron away towards Wade, and stood with his arms crossed and his eyebrows raised as Michael laughed at the idea of him stealing all of Trevor's businesses. Lamar stood listening to him, slightly disappointed at how the man who had saved him countless times looked.

"So uh, shit, it's good to meet you finally, but uh…Ain't you a little old for all this white-collar crime shit?" Lamar asked, his cockiness was getting the better of him, and Trevor laughed at his dissatisfaction at Michael's appearance.

"Well gee, I'd happily retire anyday from this 'white-collar crime shit', but the youth of today fuck up the world too much for the older generations not to get involved!" Michael protested in a sarcastic manner, Lamar backed down and gave him a civil fist-bump, then Trevor held in his frustration over being classed as an older generation.

"Now Michael, we both knooow you're not one for saying goodbyes traditionally, so let's fly this fucker into the horizon! Las Venturas baby, gotta say though Mikey, it won't be the same without ya!" Trevor sneered, Michael gave him the finger as Franklin and Lamar got into the back of the plane and said their goodbyes to Michael. "Look, Mike, ju-just promise me you'll put all this shit to bed right? I won't be having you covering my back up there in the desert, and I prefer to put my feet up in one place…" Trevor mumbled, finally, the first time Trevor spoke sincerely to Michael in years had come, and Michael was touched slightly at Trevor's words, but brushed them off with a calm hug.

"Hey, whatta I tell ya? I know what I'm doing, and I'll get all this shit done in a few weeks, just lie low and it'll be okay. Now go before we start crying for fuck sake." Michael reassured, Ron and Wade looked on with both confusion and jealously, until Trevor remembered where he was and had to keep his emotions bottled up again, then ferociously jumped away and slid into the plane's pilot seat.

"Oookay, let's go let's go let's go! Ron – Wade, listen to Mikey and don't do anything fucking rash or incest while I'm gone! Oh and Sugatits, say hi to Superagent Norton for me while I'm gone, I hope we taxpayers are paying him fuckin' well!" Trevor decided, Ron Wade and Michael hurried backwards for shelter in the hangar, whilst waving Franklin and Trevor goodbye, whilst Lamar rested his head back, holding back his anger at not being acknowledged for covering his homie.

The three stood watching the plane drift off into the distance, the smoke blowing away with the cold unforgiving wind, whilst the clouds began to darken, and the rain pelted down relentlessly, but Michael didn't feel nor acknowledge it; he was still frozen where he stood, looking out to where he last saw the plane, and kept on hearing Trevor's last words to him over and over; his confession truly killed him, and he hated himself for believing him to simply being a cold tormented psychopath.

…

Location – Room 53 International Affairs Agency HQ, San Andreas Avenue – Pillbox Hill, Los Santos

1833 hrs, October 6

Agent Pratchett is holding a debrief

"How on Earth could you have lost them?" Karen questioned with frustration, her two lieutenants stood in front of her with almost equal fury, and the hardened female agent rose from her desk-chair, and began pacing around the room.

"As soon as the LSPD got there, it was just a blitz play; the best we can do now is look into his last whereabouts and known associates. Phillips and Clinton are affiliated with the Chamberlain Families streetgang and with one Michael DeSanta; we find them, and we find the two we're looking for." Agent Swiane prostested, the light shone off his murky slicked-back hair, almost appearing as a double for a 1960s Greaser flick.

"Continue looking into known accomplices, anyone; money-brokers, business managers, even fucking neighbours! If they've left any traces anywhere, I want you to look into it, and figure out where they've gone. Now that they know we're after them, they'll go into hiding, and you'll have to flush them out." Karen warned, she sat on the edge of her desk, tapping impatiently trying to figure a solution to the situation, but after giving a wayward glance at the other agent in the room, an idea hatched in her mind whilst looking at him.

"I know you're uncomfortable with the assassination of an innocent man, but it was necessary to justify our actions to the public eye, and there is nothing we can do now. These criminals, have murdered, stolen, tortured and committed every crime under the sun to survive…But out of everyone in this building, perhaps only you can find them; you can think like them, and if you do this, we'll send you and your family back into hiding…I promise." Karen concluded, Agent Swiane was confused at what almost sounded as an apologetic remorse from his boss, but dismissed it as he looked at the special hitman.

"They do, everything you people do for a living…The only difference is they don't lie about it. But if they're really bad fucking people, and if they really did kill Doberman at the Kortz Centre…And for my family…I'll get it done." The hitman concluded, he looked down at his hands which to him were forever covered in blood and filth, and despite knowing how the woman before him acts in order to get what she wanted, he still held a soft-spot for her, but she could never replace what he could have had with Kate. He headed out of the room and opened the door, but stopped as soon as Agent Swiane left in front of him, and Karen stopped him in his tracks.

"I'm not happy about this either, but right now, we don't have a choice; we do what we have to do to get by. You know that better than anyone, Niko." Karen pleaded, she placed her hand on his shoulder, and was tempted to loosen her fingers across his face, but knew her place, and followed her ex-boyfriend turned government hitman out of the door.

* * *

**Well, that's it for Chapter 1. If I continue with Chapter 2, we'll follow Trevor and his two gangster friends to Las Venturas, and see how long it takes for Trevor to get into trouble with the mafia and triads, and maybe a few more old faces from GTA IV and V will crop up too.**

**Don't forget to leave a Review or comment below!**


	2. Chapter 2: Trevor's Tiger

**Hi everyone,**

**I wasn't sure whether I was going to post a second chapter, but I decided I wanted to after replaying the ending of GTA V again. I've replanned how this story will turn out and have a few ideas as to which characters your will expect to crop up, but I won't reveal too much yet. In this chapter, Michael and Niko meet for the first time in a fist-fight, whilst Trevor shows Franklin and Lamar how to have a good time in Las Venturas, after having an argument with his girlfriend over the phone.**

**As always, please R&R! The story gets a little graphical near the end with some murders going on by the one and only Trevor Phillips, but its not too bad imo. Enjoy! :D**

* * *

Location – Verdant Meadows Airstrip – Bone County

0630 hrs – October 7

Franklin Clinton, Lamar Davis and Trevor Phillips are settling in the Plane Graveyard

…

The front wooden door creaked upon Trevor's entry, who whimpered slightly as the ancient dust burned through his eye sockets with no remorse, whilst Franklin and Lamar covered their noses as they could not handle the smell. It didn't take long for the trio to discover the source of the stench, as in the centre of the room perched upon a worn leathery couch sat three gnarly looking men, all with their saggy throats slit. As soon as he had rescued himself from his pain, Trevor's eyes widened upon discovery of the merciless deaths of his old friends.

"Well shit…Guess it'll be my turn then to take the trash out…" Trevor inhumanly joked, he pushed one of the plump tank-top wearing men onto the floor and used him as a footrest, and rested his head warmly upon the shoulders of the corpse next to him, shushing both himself and the body next to him.

"Eh Crazy Dude, I ain't sleeping in no shit-ass shack with a pile of corpses like this one…" Lamar protested in a moaning tone, Franklin was relieved that Lamar had spoken for the pair of them, and held in a slight chuckle at the fact that it was Lamar between the two who was moaning, rather than Franklin like usual.

"HEY! These – Are my friends, friends whom have such a relaxed outlook on life, that they're happily letting you stay in their home, and don't even care about how the world views them!" Trevor sneered, as he rose up on his feet, his feet crunched down upon the face of the corpse acting as a footrest, and his eyeballs turned to a sludgy stain in the loose floorboards. Lamar began to back away as he waved his hands in the air as a sign of surrender.

"Anyway…From the looks of things, someone must've broke in here recently, tore up the place and killed your guys Trev, we should keep an eye on things." Franklin suggested as he assessed the building, looking at the time-passed pancakes still in rusty pans in the kitchen, and looked at a large yellow puddle in the corner just by the door, suggesting this home lacked a toilet, though if these men were anything like Trevor, a bathroom obviously wasn't a necessity.

"Alrighty then!" Trevor shouted, clapping his hands whilst Lamar peeked out the fortified glass windows, and Franklin's eyes laid upon the friendly psychopath. "Since Lamar's senses are defenceless against my 'home away from home', and since Franklin's got his detective mode on…Let's hit the town baby!"

"T, I'm a wanted man, I can't be seen out in public otherwise One-time will snatch my ass and throwaway the key!" Franklin replied with haste, Michael had warned him not to let Trevor get ahead of himself, and even if he had to survive leaving in a small shack full of corpses with Lamar and Trevor, he was prepared to do it.

"Ey dude, did you decide to pack some tampons on our little flight? Calm yo'self down man, if anyone starts asking questions, we'll just clap 'em." Lamar concluded, Franklin may have had his reasons in wanting to stay in a horrid disclosed area like an airplane graveyard, but Lamar was still crazed and ruthless in his youth, and he wanted to enjoy himself.

"Ah, thank you Lamar, now let's go ladies, the night is coming, and I want to take advantage of it!" Trevor implored, he opened the stiff door and let the desert's sun shine on his face, then hustled the two gangsters out of the door, and he took one final look at his deceased old friends. "Don't get up, I'll let myself out…" Trevor whispered, winking at the bodies whilst ramming his left hand down his sweatpants, feeling the need to scratch his sack.

…

Meanwhile, Michael Townley and Dave Norton are outside the Little Seoul Church

Michael sat perched on the bonnet of Dave's Oracle, looking across the street at the crowd of cops, full of the old and cynical who had given up on their duties and stood dunking cookies into their coffee whilst the young and eager stood looking at the white painted lines around the corpse on the ground, giving their own detective theories hoping to impress their superiors. Michael chuckled at the knowledge that a famed notorious retired bank robber stood just across the road, and before he could enjoy the confusion of those before him anymore, Dave hurried out of the crowd with a cigarette in his mouth, and a lighter placed back into his pocket.

"Okay, after getting a few of them to talk, it turns out Franklin's suspicions were right; this guy was assassinated. The killer used skilful precision in sniping the surgeon just above the cranium, and looking from the projectile of the bullet, it must have come from the LTD Gas Station just across the street." Dave revealed, Michael nodded his head and pretended to display some interest, but this was a man who just wanted to make movies and have a glass of whiskey, and he was still trying to recover from his smoking addiction.

"Alright great, so what now?" Michael asked, Dave looked to him with an irritated glare as he sat carelessly on his car, which had just been washed a few hours ago, and Michael's own hygiene became evident by the dirt trickling off the bottom of his suit, leaving several filthy marks on the expensive vehicle.

"Now, we head to the gas station and interrogate the owner, see if he knew or suspected anyone. And if we don't get anything out of him, we look through his CCTV footage and find our assassin. Then, we ensure the owner doesn't warn the Agency of what we'll have done, and find some sort of incriminating evidence to warn him not to." Dave asserted, Michael looked at his watch as he wanted to get home and see his family, but business had to come first as Dave opened the driver's door of the car, and twitched his head to signal Michael to get in.

The duo began racing down the street, and with Dave's delirious driving, it was only a matter of mere seconds until the two reached their destination. Observant as ever, Dave noticed a black sedan parked outside the gas station, but after trying to check the licence plate on his phone, he was flabbergasted to find that there were no names of former or current owners. As they approached the entrance to the liquor store, Michael began to smell something burning, and the two quickly realised that someone had attacked the owner, as the glass windows were smashed, bottles of malt had spilled across the floor and some crates of alcohol had traces of blood on the bottom.

"Shit, brace yourself, they could still be here." Dave warned, pulling out an AP pistol with a silencer, whilst Michael pulled out his reliable gold-painted Combat pistol. A dribble of sweat emerged across Dave's face, whilst Michael calmly looked on, and lead the agent towards the backroom of the store, where the CCTV footage could be watched.

Michael looked towards the opened dark door, and watched the talking shadows as he eavesdropped on the rival government agents as they began torturing an owner of a small liquor store; of all the biggest threats in the world they could have fought, they instead chose to attack a liquor store owner simply because he was a loose end.

"AARGH! Fuckin' hell! Stop that shit you immigrant asshole!" The owner begged, Niko was merciless as he unscrewed another bottle of alcohol open, then began pouring it across the owners legs, whilst Karen and Agent Swiane looked on.

"Tell us where you hid the tapes, and we'll walk away, but until then, we'll set this place ablaze, with you in it!" Karen warned, she stood in front of the man, tied down to a chair, waving a matchstick whilst Agent Swiane chose to start drinking some of the vodka from the crates.

"Sh-Shit…All you bureau people…You're all the same. You don't fight wars, you start 'em and leave it to common folk like us to deal with the shit!" The owner roared with anger, Niko tensed his grip onto the man's jawline, and slowly yet excruciatingly began tightening the palm of his hand as he listened to the sounds of his mouth with force, and watched as two or three teeth fell out of his mouth.

"Last chance…" Karen warned, as she brought out the box of matchsticks and scratched one across the box, and the female-fatale was tempted to smirk as the man's eyes alit with fear at the small flare, comparable to that of a cat after being caught alone in the darkness. "Where are the tapes?"

"That's our cue Dave!" Michael shouted, as he entered the small room, bringing out his pistol and shooting the matchstick out of Karen's hands, sheer millimetres away from dismembering her hand.

Agent Swiane took swift action as he charged for Michael, however a tackle to the ground by Dave was all it took to keep him away, as Dave forced his weight onto the man's gut whilst beating his dense skull ruthlessly into the flooring. Niko's eyes widened with fury as he charged after Michael, scoring a quick takedown through striking him in the face, however he didn't expect Michael to have had almost equal reflexes, as the forty-five year old managed a defensive low-uppercut into Niko's ribcage, followed by a headbutt that left both combatants slightly dazed. Karen stood with anger as her two agents wasted time fighting, and decided to continue trying to extort information out of her victim.

"Well friend, you're really in it…I've got no personnel behind me, my agents are preoccupied, and I..I am pissed." Karen scorned in a low tone, bringing out a pistol as she fired a bullet from her pistol into the man's right-foot, and then his left-kneecap, followed by a full round into both of his hands. Somehow, he survived the torture, however his wailing began to give Karen a throbbing headache, which was what the stressed negotiator did not need right now. "Where. Are. The tapes?"

"Fi-Fine…I gave it, to my wife…She's in an apartment on Carson avenue…Don't hurt her, she still puts out…" The owner beseeched, Karen let out a sigh of relief as Niko tackled Michael to the ground and poured a bottle of scotch into his eyes to distract him, however Michael was still putting up a fight as he kneed the Eastern-European straight into the Bellic jewels.

"Sorry, but favours aren't in my job description." Karen hissed, firing one final bullet into the man's forehead, tying up loose ends. "We're done here – Finish them and let's go!"

Despite his seemingly best efforts, Agent Swiane cowered on the ground trying to protect himself like a wounded animal as Dave continue to wear out the shape of the timeworn man's face with his bloodied knuckles, and Karen had decided that enough, was quite enough.

BAAM!

"DAVEY!" Michael howled, as the distraction of Dave's wound was the perfect opportunity for Niko to finally win the fight by thrashing his thumbs into Michael's eyeballs, then ensured that he would not manage to get up quickly enough by picking up a half-smashed bottle of vodka up from the floor, and pierced Michael's kneecap with the sharp edges of the glass beverage. Niko aimed his own pistol at the man's forehead, before his opponent whimpered in pain whilst throwing his hands into the air.

"I'm a father – I have a family!" Michael begged, before Niko could coldly pull the trigger on the pistol, he looked at his adversary with both amazement and empathy as he expected to fight a rogue group of FIB agents with no remorse for killing, not a middle aged family man who wanted to do right by his children.

Niko aimed the pistol at Michael, his hands shaking violently whilst he began to blink uncontrollably, and as he struggled to decide whether to kill him or let him live, he saw flashbacks of himself and Roman, how they were placed in the exact same spot as Michael, and ultimately, how they didn't deserve any of the pain or suffering they were forced to endure, with Roman in particular. Agent Swiane managed to shove Dave away from him and forced himself to his feet with some assistance from Karen, whom was still waiting to hear the ringing of a gunshot in the room from Niko's gun. He turned to her and watched her help up Agent Swiane, and taking the chance whilst her back was turned, he composed himself and readied the kill.

"I'm sorry friend, but if you really wanted to protect your family, you wouldn't have gotten involved in this shit…" Niko muttered, he began blinking hysterically again as his past life and mistakes flashed before his eyes, but he was still in control, and knew exactly what he wanted to do.

BAAM!

"It's done, now let's go and get the tapes." Niko settled in a grim tone, Karen turned to face him and inspected the victim's body, and after she had deemed it satisfactory, she began walking out of the room, with Agent Swiane ahead of her.

"Niko, are you okay?" Karen queried in an apologetic tone, the sound of Dave still whimpering rang out through the room as he lay, waiting for his eventual death, however Niko was resilient to the woman's false charms, and followed Agent Swiane out of the room.

…

Location – Four Dragons Casino – Las Venturas

1952 hrs – October 7

Franklin Clinton, Lamar Davis and Trevor Phillips are drinking and are about to take on the town

Nothing could have prevented Franklin from looking inconspicuous as he stood wearing a lopsided black fedora coupled with solid dark aviators, and stood perched by one of the slot-machines, and witnessed the horror of Trevor and Lamar gambling their lives away in their egotistical drunkenness. For a psychotic deranged killer with unresolved parental issues, Trevor was truly gifted when it came to gambling; throughout the whole night, he had moved swiftly from poker tables to slot machines, to roulette wheels and then back to different poker tables, it was as if he could hear a ticking clock inside his head, telling him where and when to strike, just like his murder streaks.

"Yeah – 26 Red! – Remember that colour girls – It's what you'll all look like when I'm done with ya!" Trevor roared, he had scored another couple of million again off the wheel, with a pair of strippers on his shoulders whom seemed troubled by the stench from his armpits, yet were too interested in his wealth to give it too much thought.

"Homie, you and me is going places, up to the top!" Lamar laughed, then noticed a flirtatious young blonde Italian girl winking at him whilst showing a little flesh, then began walking away but with the allure pulling Lamar after her. "But'chu and me girl, we're gonna go low and rock the bottom…"

"Man, what the fuck is wrong with y'all? We're supposed to be lying low, not lying on top of fancy looking dames and dimes!" Franklin reminded in an alarmed tone, he stood in Lamar's way with his arms held wide apart, whom stood agitated by the younger man's persistence, and just wanted the trio to relax for once. "Now come on, let's just head back to the hangar, we can put up a few sleepingbags or some shit-"

"Oh that shall not be necessary dearest Franklin," Trevor began, he swayed his right arm into the air and forced one of the strippers to topple on her heels as Trevor left the poker table with his pile of money. "I already bought us a nice pad at this fine establishment for the week, me being in my hospitable nature and also being the host…That and Lamar being a pussy over staying in a room with some corpses."

"Well excuse me if that don't turn me on crazy man!" Lamar sneered, he was growing more and more angered at the fact that he had come all the way to Las Venturas for his two friends, yet they still continued to mock him and order him around.

"Well excuuuuuuuuse me, if you feel sexually threatened over those dusty meatbags still havin' bigger balls than you do down there!" Trevor laughed in a vicious tone, he crouched down and pretended to hold a magnifying glass like a detective as he held his face close towards Lamar's crouch, who jumped back in fright at what was about to come next. "Now come on; your best friend is going through a rough patch, and you have done the hard job of coming all the way out here out of familial obligations, now let's all just calm down, have a drink, and get some shut-eye."

"Fuck; that may actually be the most sensible thing you ever said T." Franklin bewildered, he was surprised at Trevor's pragmatism regarding the situation, and for actually taking it seriously for once. Lamar backed down and gave Franklin some dap, whilst Trevor began nodding his head violently in delight at what he saw.

"Well that's down to two reasons Frankie; one – I'm as high as a kite right now – And two! You guys are my beloved friends, friends who have never turned on me…Now let's go, one final drink before we get going!" Trevor implored, Lamar had suspected that Trevor had been under the influence for a while now as he led the two towards the bar, whilst Franklin followed behind, amazed at Trevor's sincerity for once. As Lamar began ordering some cocktails, Trevor's phone began to ring, and he suspected that it may have been Michael, until checking the number.

"Ohohohoh, Ursula m'dear! How's my favourite naughty little girl?" Trevor quipped in a seductive yet uncanny tone, whilst Lamar and Franklin looked one, learning for the first time that he actually had a girl in his life.

"Daddy, I need some spanking but I ain't seen you around Sandy Shores, where are you?" Ursula faithfully replied, she was slurring her words as if she had been drinking plenty of alcohol recently, whilst Trevor struggled to hear her over the loud music in the casino.

"Yeeeeeeeeah, about that – You're gonna have to spank yourself and eat the drywall on your own for a while as I'm out of town for a few weeks, business matters, and a slight confusion with the police force." Trevor announced in a polite yet deceiving tone, stabbing himself emotionally in the stomach as he hated to lie to a woman for his friends, and not just any woman, but a woman he had been with for a long time. As he finished, he could hear Ursula crying on the phone which upset him even more. "Ur-Ursula? Darling, you okay?" Her tears gradually turned into screams as Trevor moved the phone away from his ears in pain, and Franklin and Lamar listened to the screeches.

"I-Is this what I am to you!? A cheap skank!? Your friends are more important to you than your little girl? Yo-You and I need to meet – Are you near a cliff? In a kitchen with some sharp knives and forks? In a garden with a nice long shovel!?" Ursula barked, she began remembering her previous lovers that she had killed so close to home, and was intent on adding Trevor to the list as Franklin downed a cocktail whilst Lamar tried to conceal both his shock and laughter at Trevor's call.

"Fine – Las Venturas – Four Dragons Casino – I'll send some money for the flight if you need it, I'll be honest with you; we're not in an exactly good situation right now so I didn't want to bring you with me…But if you want to come darling, then fucki-" Trevor revealed, after listening to the irrational crazed woman, Franklin and Lamar began waving their arms in silent protest as they begged Trevor not to bring her all the way to Las Venturas, but he didn't listen and pretended to growl at them, however Ursula broke his reply.

"I'll be there….I still don't get any visitors anymore, and these days are too long….FUCKING SOUP! Mamma's hair got into the fucking soup 'cause I'm holding this fucking phone! YOU'RE DEAD! YOU'RE GONNA DIE!" Ursula began to blather, she seemed lost in thought as Trevor stood with his eyebrows raised in sympathy, scratching his cheeks as his skin grew warmer, then flinched slightly as Ursula began sending him death-threats. Despite the startled looks on Franklin's and Lamar's faces, a horrid grin gashed across Trevor's face as he slowly built up an erection over the potential fear from this feisty woman, and put his phone away as she hung up in rage.

"So uh…I guess Franklin ain't the only boy with girl problems eh?" Lamar chuckled, Trevor tucked his phone back into his jeans' pocket, then looked to the bartender as he began pouring a bottle of liquor into a small glass, and impatiently forced himself against the counter and swiped the bottle away and growled with a ghastly groan, then began trying to chuck the whole beverage down.

"Every relationship has to drive over a bumpy road here and there Lamar, you just haven't experienced it yet because you have a weak attention span when it comes to women," Trevor began, he began pointing at Lamar with the tip of his bottle that fizzed over the hoodlum's shirt, whilst Franklin stood in the background, wavering his hand to ask for the bartender to pour him another drink, then looked over and realised the casino was short of staff. "Take Mikey and Amanda for example – he didn't exactly think it'd work when he found out the whole 'Special in bed' wasn't just exclusive to him – and she didn't exactly think it'd work when she found out he was just trailer-trash turned bank robber…But they made it work. And case and point, I'll make it work with…What'sherface."

"Shit, and you bitch about Lamar for his weak-ass brain." Franklin chuckled, he began to follow in Trevor's choice of liquor as he sloped over the counter and helped himself to another drink, though he had the manners and respect to place some money where he had collected the beverage, whilst Trevor looked on in embarrassed disgust.

"Gentlemen gentlemen gentlemen! We are here to lie low and have the time of our lives – We are young! We're rich! We're loaded! Now, let's forget all our troubles, leave all the heavy lifting to sugar tits, and enjoy ourselves!" Trevor pleaded, he pretended to be a young child tugging at the clothes of his mother as he held both of his furry grubby paws over Franklin's face, then held his bottle up to raise a toast, to which the others welcomed.

The three drinks clashed with an alarming ping, then the trio began guzzling down the beverages and as the strippers returned to the hillbilly whilst the two two-bit gangsters looked for some girls of their own, the night only just began to start….

…

Location – Carson Street South Los Santos

1824 hrs, - October 7

Agent Pratchett has completed her mission objectives

"Was that really fucking necessary?" Niko growled with fury, watching the entire apartment block turn into a fiery blaze whilst Karen walked past him after throwing the Jerry can into the trunk of her Oracle, and Agent Swiane stood in the background on his phone, seemingly alerting his bosses to know that they had completed their objectives.

"We couldn't leave any traces and we can pin the whole event as an arsonist attack made by Clinton, there were a few members of the Ballas in there who were friends of Harold Joseph, the story can be checked out. As for the clerk at the gas station, he can easily just be the victim of a robbery that failed; this is a gang area anyway, the story's believable." Karen answered swiftly, she drew out a cigarette and a lighter, and offered one to Niko whose eyes were firmly focused on her face, not on her habits, and she grudgingly drew away the lighter, then began puffing out the smoke. "Now all we have to do is find his associates since he'll most likely be in hiding, namely this Michael DeSanta. I've met him before – He can handle himself in a gunfight, though you wouldn't have to learn this if you had just killed him."

"Whatever, this guy's just having a midlife crisis and playing with guns, and I don't have to kill everyone I meet; I'll give him a chance to make things right, and if he doesn't, then I'll kill him." Niko protested, Karen looked into his brown mysterious eyes and saw the flames of the apartment block in them, and was amazed to find that he never even blinked. In many ways, he could have been the best agent she could have right now.

"Fine." Karen muttered, she wished for a much stronger reply to encourage Niko to kill more often, however she knew from past experience not to push him too much. Agent Swiane waved his hands in the air to say that he wasn't going to finish his call anytime soon, and so Karen decided to drive off without him, getting into the driver's seat as Niko followed. "So…Do you hear from them much?"

"No, not after the job in North Yankton, by now, Roman's daughter will be five, starting kindergarten soon I think you people call it. What do you care? Everything is just work to you, even when you knew him and Mallorie as 'Michelle', you still didn't like him that much." Niko revealed, he lifted his face to look up into the clouds as his hands bristled through his beard, whilst Karen tried to move closer towards him in the front of the car, until Niko realised her tricks. "And I still miss Kate, she didn't deserve to get shot, none of them did…" Niko pushed himself towards the passenger window and gave one final glance towards the inferno, and waited for Karen to begin driving away.

With silent defeat, Karen pulled the Oracle away from the drive, and drove down the street and began heading for the HQ, whilst Agent Swiane began walking past the Recreation Centre and towards an alleyway, away from any possible attention he may have been receiving. He began panting as he started to power-walk, then clenched his stomach as he experienced stiches across his stomach, however it seemed as if his true suffering was coming from the phonecall.

"Yes, yes yes yes, I'll handle it sir. The IAA still believe the business is just a front that they can use to increase funding, they have no idea we are looking into their information. They're focused on finding one guy right now, someone called Franklin Clinton, some three-bit hood that's earned an extra dollar. No, no, no he won't be a problem, we'll deal with it soon and get back to the foreign affairs…Yes, yes I know how soon the election will be soon, that's why I'm keeping on tra-Okay. Alright, goodb-" Agent Swiane reported, he persistently looked back and forth out of the alleyway to make sure he wasn't followed, and his claustrophobia was kicking in as he began trying to read the graffiti on the brickwalls to keep his mind focused. The caller grew tired of his whimpering, and hung up on him, satisfied with his work for the time being.

…

Location – Four Dragons Casino Hotel Suite, Room 69 – Las Venturas

1007 hrs, October 8

Franklin Clinton, Lamar Davis and Trevor Phillips are waking up from their night of drunkenness

Franklin brushed his strained eyes as he moaned in pain from the hangover, and tried to look across the sunny room, and could faintly remember where he was. He looked at the zebra fur-themed furniture and then back at the green vined wallpaper with both amazement and astonishment at the fashion choices, then tried to push himself up with his hands, then showed fright at the blood stains on his fingers, along with small burn scars tracing up his wrists. Then the ultimate surprise lay in front of him; a young topless Asian woman wearing his pants, also covered in bloodstains.

"Oh shit…What a fuckin' night man." Franklin snivelled in a low tone, trying to stand up on his feet as he noticed a katana jabbed into the front wall of the room, and could hear the faint sound of Lamar also waking up, and tried to hobble into the bathroom to find him. "Lamar, shit you in here bro?"

"FC man…Where the fuck are we?" Lamar questioned with his eyes shut, also missing his pair of pants. His muzzled hairy head was rested on the toilet seat whilst his feet were propped up by a dead ferret that had half of its pelt torn off, and he was also wearing a pair of fake-breasts on top of his shirts, that were covered in some sort of sticky liquid that smelt fishy. "Sh-Shit bro! What the fuck's going on!?" Lamar roared, Franklin moaned in pain at the noise, as did a familiar blonde Italian woman in the bathtub, wearing only a bikini and was covered in claw marks and lifeless roses.

"Argh…Who the fuck are you people? Where's my bodyguards?" The lady yowled, her lipstick was smeared across her Rosen cheeks, and her blonde glistening hair was all rugged around her shoulders, and she brought herself up to her legs as she raced through the apartment to find her clothes.

"Eh man, this is how it should be bro; Forum gangsters causing shit in hotel rooms and forgetting about all the chaos they wreak!" Lamar chuckled, he tried to give dap to Franklin whom couldn't help but chuckle at the fake-breasts he was wearing, and upon inspection, noticed a racing green line going down Lamar's neck. "Hey hey hey, shit man, what'chu looking at?"

"You must've gotten a tattoo or some shit during the night…" Franklin observed, he pulled down the back of Lamar's shirt collar and followed the pattern of the tattoo, and was amazed at what he saw; a green picture of Trevor's face wearing a bandanna, with the words 'Don't fuck the crazies' scrawled across Lamar's upper spine. "Damn that's…That's just fucked up." Franklin muttered, Lamar began begging to know what it was, however Franklin was clever enough not to tell him straight away as he would have had to experience the torture of his screams, and in this hangover, it could have killed the wanted billionaire.

Suddenly the Italian woman shrieked from the other side of the hotel room, and Franklin and Lamar could hear the sounds of someone running across the floor, and hurried out of the bathroom to inspect the situation. Then they stood in amazement; Trevor Phillips in a pink floral dress, perched upon a half dead white tiger, that had just awakened at the sounds of the screams. Trevor's eyelids faintly opened as the tiger screamed with aggression, shaking the crazed fellow animalistic entrepreneur off its back, then rushed across the room as it tried to get to grips with its surroundings. Trevor began moaning, and swearing, in pain and ache as the Italian woman tried to help him up just so she could offer him as a sacrifice to give her the chance to flee without being caught. Miraculously however, the tiger decided not to eat any of the men, or the Italian woman, for breakfast, but instead chose the Asian prostitute to quench its hunger. She shrieked with heartache and heart-break as the tiger began munching on her bossom, then peeled away at the flesh to draw out the muscle tissue and organs, and began licking the blood off its teeth to enjoy the meal. Trevor readied a swiss-army knife he had found by the broken Plasma TV, and slowly crept upon the fellow animal as it dug deeper into its feast. It clawed at the woman's neck as it tore the top of the spinal cord in half to get more of the blood, and with that, the prostitute's screams turned into whimpers as her brain was cut off from the rest of her body, and then, nothing. Franklin and Lamar both stood by the bathroom, preparing to lock themselves in whilst the Italian woman moved closer to them, and Trevor readied the blade.

"Eencie bincie tiger, went up the Japanese Casiiii-no…Up came T-revor, and down came the women…Eencie bincie ti-GERRRRR!" Trevor playfully noised as he moved closer to his prey, smelling its fear and delight upon the meal, and quickly jabbed into its head as Trevor's blade moved so quickly, Trevor almost slipped and tore off its right ear. Fortunately, Trevor's precision was strong enough to end the animal's life without too much pain. "Coast is clear, you can come out now you fuckin' cowards!"

"Shit man…The fuck happened last night?" Franklin bewildered, he began scratching his beard as Lamar tried to hold a hand over his nose to cover the smell of the rotting corpses, all the while the Italian woman crept out of the room holding her designer boots, still in a bikini.

"I dunno…But it was fun boys eh!? I mean, sure the RSPCA will have a fields day hunting us…And we've trashed the hotel room, but hey, what's life without a little risk?" Trevor answered with his arms waving in the air covered in traces of blood that came from different corpses, both dry and still dripping, and tried to hug his friends; one in a dress, one wearing fake-breasts, and the other missing his pants.

Before the trio could embrace upon surviving the crazed night, the door creaked upon, and the three met the eyes of a group of men in suits and sunglasses, obviously the Triads who owned the Casino downstairs, whom were mortified at the state of the room. Two of them held pistols in their hands as they aimed them at the inhabitants, and the third man stood straightening his tie, then took off his sunglasses with a smirk sprawled across his face.

"Mr Wo-Kin-Pai would like to have a word with you right away. Please, come with us…And we won't hurt you." He ordered in a light, emotionless tone, looking at the different faces of those who opposed him. The three looked back and forth at each other as they searched for answers as to who this man was, or what they wanted from him. Despite Franklin's wishes to stay away from unnecessary attention, he knew he had to follow the men, and the trio walked down the stairs and out of the suite at gunpoint, the prostitute and the tiger's corpses, still rotting and attracting flies.

* * *

**And with that, some of the main antagonists are being introduced to this story, as well as a more fleshed out Niko Bellic who in later chapters, shall have his past life before 2013 explored through flashback sections.**

**Stay tuned for Chapter 3!**


	3. Chapter 3: Business Is Business

**Finally got around to finishing this chapter, it's quite short compared to the previous ones as I wasn't sure how to exactly describe my scenes, though I've established a nicer tone at the end so I don't drone on. In this chapter, the mystery of Michael's fate at the hands of Niko weighs on as Franklin feels as though something is not quite right, whilst the Venturas Trio come face to face with the leader of the Triads, and a few old faces crop up from the GTA IV era...**

**R&R please!**

* * *

Location – Four Dragons Casino Managers Office – Las Venturas

1022 hrs, October 8

Franklin Clinton, Lamar Davis and Trevor Phillips are being interrogated by the Triads

…

Franklin's face smashed into the crimson carpet as the two Triad goons threw him mercilessly to the feet of their leader, whom stood patiently in front of him on a leathery armchair, a cigar in one hand, and a glass of Scotch in the other. He appeared to have been a man in his early thirties, a short shadowy soul patch growing just above his daunting long chin, and his hefty gut hanging over his belt buckle. After bringing himself back together, Franklin lifted his head up as he looked the mob boss in the eyes, and immediately began spluttering and rubbing his eyes as the man arrogantly blew the smoke of his cigar into his eyes. Trevor sat in an armchair across the room, his arms strapped down and five men aiming pistols at his face, disgusted by the lack of manners they were receiving.

"Gentlemen, I wish I could say that it is a pleasure to meet the three of you, however these circumstances have ruined any hopes of a hospitable relationship forming between us. My name is Wo-Kin-Pai – My friends call me 'Kingpin', though I'm sure you all know _who _I am already." Kingpin announced, as he began posing his threat to his new enemies, he clicked his fingers to signal one of his goons to take away the drink and cigar, as now was the time to discuss business. Trevor and Franklin looked to each other with empty expressions, wondering whether they were supposed to know who their foe was.

"Ye-yeah, course we've heard of you sir. So uh, we apologise for the way we've trashed your hotel suite, but we will be paying for the room to be refurbished-" Franklin began, he started dusting himself off as he tried to stand up and reach his hand out to the Triad lord to offer a handshake, however his two bodyguards stood in his way with wrath in their eyes, bringing Franklin down.

"You think I care about a room? Do you know how many Americans I have that come in everyday, causing ruckus and trying to forget their troubles?" Kingpin began, it seemed for a split second that he was letting his guard down as he moved across the room towards the cupboards, changing his long brown fur coat for a short black business suit, then returned back to Franklin after contemplating pouring himself a drink. "I do not enjoy bringing in wanted felons to my family's casino Mr. Clinton, and whilst I shall learn from this experience to ensure it never repeats itself, I hope to bring something else out of this; perhaps, a partnership…Of sorts?"

"Um…A'ight. What kind'a 'partnership' 'chu thinking about?" Franklin bewildered, he realised that he and his friends must have done something terribly worse than trashing a hotel suite to anger a Triad mobster, and was willing to offer himself in terms of work to solve his situation. Trevor however, was furious at the idea.

"Woah, woah woah! We – are not your fuckin' guinea pigs you little bastard! We're retired anyway! And even if we weren't," Trevor roared, he ripped his arms out of the straps and pushed the men with guns out of his way and he towered over the Triad boss, though he showed no signs of fear. "We wouldn't work for a snivelling pathetic little FUCK – Like you!" He began pointing at his captor and prodded him in his chest to push him back, however his impulsiveness was getting the better of him, and within minutes, more men rushed through the main doors and threw Trevor against one of the walls.

"I suppose I am grateful for your honesty – Very uncommon in a city such as this. But know this, _Canadian,_" Kingpin warned, in his silence, he had already cunningly assessed Trevor's personality and identified his accent, and plotted to use it against him. "If you dare to raise your hand to me again, I will have all of your fingers – Burned." Kingpin picked up his used cigar from the coffee table, and began stinging it into Trevor's left cheek, causing him to growl in an animalistic cry. Trevor began headbutting his head against the wall to force him to stop, however upon noticing that Franklin and Lamar were also being pinned down to the chairs, he gave up his authority, as well as his pride.

"Shit man…What do you need? We'll do anything to help y'all asses." Franklin surrendered, he kept his place in the chair as he gestured an repentant look toward Kingpin, whom just returned it with an amused devilish grin as he signalled his men to release Trevor from his suffering. Lamar remained quiet as he sat perched in the corner of the room, two guards that were meant to watch over him instead ignored his presence and fixated their eyes on the threat Trevor posed, believing Lamar couldn't give them a formidable fight.

"Very good Mr. Clinton…Now, my organisation has been rooted into Las Venturas for almost a decade now, and we have faced considerable opposition in that time and have terminated any danger made towards us. However in recent months, gang warfare has grown rapidly here, and not even the force of this branch is enough to stop it. In a few months' time, more of my men from the homeland will arrive, however until then, I need to make ends meet another method. That, is where you and your friends come in Mr. Clinton." Kingpin revealed, as he paced across the room gesturing his hands to his guards to pour him another glass, Franklin quickly gathered that there was something strange about the Triad as he could never keep himself still or in one place for any less than a minute, however knew to keep his mouth shut about it. He gulped upon realising that Kingpin was bringing in more of his men to town, concluding that he was too far of a threat to fight, even with Trevor Phillips besides him.

"I want you to deal with one of the lesser gang threats in this city; the Uptown Riders, I'm sure you've heard of them." Kingpin continued to outpour, Franklin's eyes widened upon the mention of the Riders, having been a long-time admirer of their motor-culture. "Recently, they have created an illegal ring of street-races across the city, and have been attracting even more unnecessary police attention to my properties, and have openly refused to share a cut of all profits with us…We want you, to give them a…Message – from me. I want you to join one of their races, which will be starting in two hours at the Yellowbell Train Station. Beat them at the races, and then I want you to torch all of their motorcycles, with all of the riders, except for one. Let one man live so he can run off and tell the others in his gang – That the name 'Kingpin' still MEANS SOMETHING in this town!"

Franklin looked on uneasy as Kingpin slammed his fists upon his office-desk, and almost smashed his hairy knuckles into the glasses of alcohol, but calmly argued with himself mentally as, despite his likeness to the gang, he knew he had to take down the Uptown Riders to keep Kingpin happy. "Sure thing sir, but if you want me to do, I'mma need these dudes to help me out." He pleaded, Kingpin looked at him hesitantly, not wanting to give in to too much of his opponents demands, as appearing weak in an arrangement was not in his forte.

"Very well then, you may take Mr. Phillips with you, but Mr. Davis shall stay here…This is a business arrangement after all, and I still need some leverage to ensure you keep your end of the bargain. Now, good day Mr. Clinton, there is no rush to assist me." Kingpin chuckled devilishly, he looked at his guards whom stood placing knuckle-dusters across their fists, and glared down towards Lamar whom cowered in his chair. Trevor began pacing towards them as he swung for one of the glasses, however Franklin held him back, and hurried him out of the Casino.

"Don't worry T, we won't be working for these old flossin' fuckers too much – I'll make sure of it." Franklin promised, whilst he appeared unsteadied, he still held determination in his eyes as his pupils dilated at the decision to go off to work, and Trevor stood with an unidentifiable amazement at how Michael's and Franklin's glare were so similar.

…

Location – Liquor Ace, Sandy Shores – Los Santos

1342 hrs, October 8

Ron Jakowski and Wade Hebert are discussing the future of Trevor Phillips Enterprises

Ron strolled back and forth across the till of the abandoned liquor store-turned meth lab, inspecting the rotten spider eggs in the corner of the room and what smelt like rat droppings lingered across the workshop, whilst Wade sat on one of the stair's steps, drinking bottle after bottle of alcohol.

"Why is Trevor getting himself caught up with those assholes from Los Santos when he has businesses out here he needs to protect?" Ron questioned out-loud to himself, he repeatedly turned his phone on and off in order to keep checking whether Trevor or Michael were trying to contact him, however he only disappointed himself further upon realising that he was not wanted, nor needed.

"These bottles tasty mighty like vinegar, why're they so yella?" Wade bewildered, he was oblivious to Ron's nervousness and jealousy, and grew confused over trying to make the distinction between a bottle of ancient alcohol, and a bottle of Trevor's urine. He threw himself up into the air and tried to rush pass Ron to get some air, however he forced himself upon Wade as he tried to talk some sense into him.

"Don't you get it Wade!? We're not wanted! Trevor is prepared to let himself die for a couple of nobodies from Los Santos, and we're not even entrusted to manage the Industries! Aren't you mad?" Ron yelled in desperation, Wade stood unfazed by his cries though began to doubt himself again as he looked down to the ground, hoping that an answer would magically appear in front of his eyes.

"I suppos' Trevor was right though – I mean, I'm no good with 'em numbers for business records, and I don't like Los Santos that much. 'Specially not the strip club anymore, the music drove me crazy…" Wade began, his self-esteem began to match the level of his late cousin, however he grew lost in his thoughts as he remembered the strip club, and Ron gave up in his attempt to educate the hillbilly.

"Wake up Wade – Trevor's hiding stuff from us again, just like with the business in North Yankton, the business with your Cousin and the strip club, aaa-and even the private army he's supposedly bought!" Ron screeched, as usual, his paranoia was getting the better of him, however his self-doubts for his boss got the better of him, and Wade grew panicked upon the mention of Floyd. "I still can't believe he spent all of his billions on financing his own private army; tanks, jets, mounted turrets across Mount Chiliad…The power's gone to his head."

"Wa-wait a minute…Where is Floyd, he was suppos'd ta meet me and Trevor at the strip club weeks ago! I hope he ai-" Wade tried to question in an equal frantic state to Ron as he finally placed the clues together, but before he could finish the puzzle, the two men stopped in their conversation as they heard vehicles parking outside.

The two hillbillies peeked outside of the grimy glass windows and inspected the black Landstalker that was carelessly parked in the front, and noticed a burly man in a suit emerging from the driver's seat, accompanied by an intimidating woman in a suit, and what looked as if an Eastern European wearing a scruffy black leather zipped jacket following behind the other two. The immigrant loaded up a pump-action shotgun whilst the woman began aiming her combat pistol, and the beefy agent watched on, wondering if he needed to bother equipping himself.

"Shit it's the feds – I knew the government were going to come back for Trevor, and now we've gotta deal with the shit!" Ron bemoaned, he treaded past Wade as he raced up the stairs to hide, whilst checking his pockets for his pistol to defend himself, however in the carelessness and cowardice he would never admit to retain, he had forgotten to equip himself with a weapon. "Damnit, Wade, do you got anything on you?"

"Uh-Um…You never asked me if I wanted to join you in that types of thing, but no I ain't got no condoms." Wade faithfully replied following him up the stairs, misinterpreting the question as Ron almost stuttered upon listening to him, and gritted his teeth as it once again had befallen upon him to think of a solution to their problem.

"Ssh, ssh…Can you hear them? They're planning an ambush…" Ron noted in a worried whimper, crouching behind one of the broken refrigerators whilst arming himself with the wooden leg of a chair, and Wade stood behind one of the doorframes, sniffing the puddle of vomit on the ground that oddly reminded him of Trevor.

Karen ruthlessly kicked the front glass-doors down with little precaution, and holstered her pistol towards both sides of the liquor store, ensuring the area was safe seemingly for the whole team's protection, however her swift movements across the store and leaving her two agents behind her suggested otherwise. Niko stood with his shotgun swinging from left to right, shutting his eyes and trying to smell any traces of humanity in the atmosphere whilst Agent Swiane began lighting a cigarette, and contemplated trying to drink some of the alcohol. Karen dependently looked towards Niko, hoping that he would be able to use his animalistic instincts to trace their prey.

"Anything Niko?" Karen asked in a soft tone, once again trying to seem vulnerable whilst at the same time trying to act like the headstrong leader of an IAA secret squad. Niko reopened his eyes as he took point, and began moving up the stairs, pointing his shotgun upwards and holding two fingers up to signal the amount of targets in the building.

"Two guys – possibly three, I can't make the distinction. I smell a lot of people, but can only hear two." Niko whispered, Agent Swiane finally armed himself with a weapon after Karen gave him a warning frown, whilst Niko continued up the stairs, the boards of the flooring creaking upon every thud from Niko's presence.

Finally, Niko reached the top and immediately drew in an abysmal sigh as he prepared himself for another close gunfight, an oily fluid dripping from the ceiling onto his sturdy shoulders, and Agent Swiane stumbling up the stairs whilst Karen gave Niko cover by placing her pistol firmly inches away from his hairs on his bearded chin. Ron listened to the three move closer towards the room and finally caved in to his panic, racing away from the refrigerator and pushed Wade out of his way and onto the ground, slyly saving himself by running out onto the balcony and hopping over the fence, disappearing into the countryside. Niko had emerged into the main room and tried to keep up with the conspiracy theorist, however could only watched as he galloped away into the distance, and Niko swore under his breath in Serbian upon recognising his failure.

"We've got another man in here Niko – We need you!" Karen shouted from inside the meth lab as she could be heard grappling with another target, and Niko hurried inside after her. To his astonishment, their hostage was in no ways intimidating nor displayed the true characteristics of an apparent drug-dealing incest hillbilly, but was just a young filthy juggler.

"Where did Ron go, I thought we was gonna smoke meth?" Wade asked as Agent Swiane threw him into one of the chairs by his shoulders and punched him in the teeth with his inhumanly enlarged fist, and Karen perched herself upon the end of a table after scrubbing off the dust for her own leisure.

"You're on your own for the next couple of hours pal, so I suggest you be a gracious host to your new guests, so let's start with a little…Truth, or dare." Karen deceitfully decided with a frightening edge to her tone as Niko looked on with both confusion and a small trace of fear, and Agent Swiane paced across the room, inspecting the lab instruments that the Enterprises had used.

"Um…I vote dare on ma' part if that be alright…" Wade pleaded, he began to feel uneasy as Karen and Niko glared down at him and crowded around him, Niko snapping his fingers whilst Karen flipping her pistol around so she was wielding the bottom side for more personal brutality. Karen smirked upon Wade's mistake in choice, and gave a delighted sigh of relief.

"Well then, if that's how you want to play…" Karen replied in a low whisper, readying the pistol whilst Niko held him down by his shoulders as the young man shook back and forth in anguished pain, and began calling out for his best friend to return to Los Santos, and save his life, all the while still telling himself that his cousin hadn't been killed after all.

…

Location – The Strip – Las Venturas

1503 hrs, October 8

Franklin Clinton is finishing a race against the Uptown Riders

"Eh T! We coming up past the Camel Toe Casino! Where you at man?" Franklin asked over the headset, his Pegassi Bati-Custom rapidly diverted through the oncoming vehicles in front of him with his mind firmly focused on the job, hoping to resolve it finally.

"I'm here – I'm at this giant dick monument thing…Guess it puts a lot of things in respective huh?" Trevor began, never did he mind the usual philosophical chatter when his life was endangered, but as he gave an aggressive growl to a tourist couple who tried to photograph Trevor by the statue, believing him to be a celebrity, Franklin sighed down the phone, signalling he wasn't in the mood to talk. "Drive off the road and towards the palm trees before you're caught up in this shitter!"

"Why? What'chu got planned T? We don't need no fuckin' drama!" Franklin snapped, as he drew closer to what was originally the finishing line to the race, he caught a glimpse of Trevor in his Love Fist tank-top waving towards him, and instantly knew that there was no time to debate the forms of murder, and irresponsibly drove over the pavement and past the palm trees, parking by the pool.

"This is Las Vegas Frankie -" Trevor began, he shouted towards Franklin but kept his eyes firmly on the intersection as he fired a pistol bullet towards the gravelly road, confusing the young sought gangster, until he saw a small cerulean flare ignite. "-These people live off drama!"

A trail of an azure flame paved its way across the gritty highway, and as the Uptown Riders drew closer towards the finishing line, the leading Rider saw the rising fire and shrieked in terror, and tried to pull back on his brakes, however not even his imported custom-made bike could save him from the gruesome end that Trevor had planned for him as he began to slide off his bike whilst pulling back the breaks, and found his face planting into the ground with force. Trevor began to grow jaded as he waited for the fire to continue rising, firing bullet after bullet at the gasoline until the man's face finally began to melt, and without moments, a sluggish cloud filled with the smell of burning rubber and flesh filled the area. More of the Riders began to pull up at the finishing line, until they began to splutter at the smell of the explosion, and Trevor began firing his shotgun at the front wheels of each bike, watching all of the Riders struggle to retain control, until they all joined their fallen buddies in the fiery dirt.

"Don't get ahead of yourself bro, we need one of these cats alive!" Franklin shouted, he sat perched against the leather seat of his Pegassi Bati-Custom with his arms firmly crossed as he showed no delight or insistence in trying to make his job enjoyable, however Trevor thrived on it, and was determined to bend the rules his new boss had given him.

"If I'll ever be remembered for anything in death 'bro', it'll be moderaaaation. But hey, don't mean we can't have some fun…" Trevor asserted as he forced Franklin out of his way and began scampering through the pile of crispy corpses and began prodding each Rider with his bloody-stained hiker boots that extraordinarily had fluffs of Johnny's brain stuck, like unwanted chewing gum that could never be shook off. "A-Ha! Found some in the livestock, can I keep him?"

"He-He-Hey man, yo, if you're gonna finish me, make it quick and get it over with son." The Rider sorely commanded, even upon the brink of death, he still had the nerve to temper with Trevor Phillips of all people who hovered over him with his shotgun pointed at his skull, and was disgusted with the lack of manners given.

"Hmm, I guess every breed of bikers needs to be schooled on the code of conducts…How about I stamp your head into the ground and smash your brain into the pavement and lick it all off as pudding?" Trevor interrogatingly intimidated, the Rider was still covering the bullet-wound in his stomach and trying to gather his breath as he bled out onto his Double-T custom, and remained unfazed by the crank dealer. "C'mon don't test me boyo, I've been hankering for a good bite and I reckon some nice Ameriii-cano will do the trick!"

"You definitely one hillbilly fruitcake a'ight, if you planning on putting me down then just get it over with, but I am sick of hearing your stupid ass." The Rider protested, he rolled himself over and mockingly drew his face away as he tried to bring himself up to his knees, however Trevor's temper flared as he butted the shotgun into the Rider's face, and began panting with impatience as he looked to Franklin for input. "Mmm, correction; one hillbilly incest fruitcake-"

"Whoa whoa whoa – Listen dude, this is your lucky day, we've been given orders not to kill your sorry ass!" Franklin interrupted, Trevor began attempting to wring the Rider's neck with the weapon whilst what seemed to have been an attempt to nibble at his earlobes, and managed to pull the animal away from his meal. "C'mon then bro, what's your name?"

"It's Malc…The fuck is this anyway, you setting us all up for a date or a three-way or some shit? Just fuckin' pop me already!" Malc revealed, Franklin helped him up on his feet whilst Trevor continued to show distrust as he began sniffing deafeningly towards the biker, anxious to finish him off once and for all, however orders were orders, and Lamar was more important than a meal, however tasty.

"A'ight then Malc, you're gonna go and meet the rest of your friends and tell 'em all that this was all down to Kingpin, and him and his Triads are pissed at'chu for not giving him his cut! Cough up some dough soon or we'll be back to finish you all off." Franklin warned with hesitation as he despised being the stoolie of egotistic men whom lacked the backbone to commit their own crimes, and even worse he had admired the Uptown Riders greatly in his youth.

"Sh-Shit…I don't know whether to fuck with your ass or kiss it…I'mma get my boy De-Sean and make y'all regret this shit; those triad motherfuckers don't own my ass!" Malc reluctantly complied, he propped his Double-T custom back up and began to scoot it along the pavement, trampling over his rotting friends with haste for his own skin rather than the burning meaty skin of his fallen comrades, and hurried away into the distance.

Trevor began pacing back and forth with a soundless irritation building up inside of him, but a short glance from Franklin was enough to put the matter to rest. "So…What do you want to do now? Go for lunch?" Trevor asked with a questionable wander in his voice, confused without the leadership of Michael or the fact that he was still trying not to let himself get too cocky to blow Franklin's cover.

"We gotta go and get our boy Lamar, who knows what the fuck those Triad fuckers are doing to him…Damn, he better be a'ight." Franklin decisively whimpered, he positioned himself back onto the seat of the Pegassi Bati-Custom as he began to rev up the engine, whilst Trevor threw himself behind Franklin, ruffling his arms against the young gangster's hoodie and stealing a quick feel of his abs. "Woah – You can knock that shit off before I drop yo' ass!"

"Alright alright, you go and get him…I think I've got some…er ah….Business, to attend to." Trevor mysteriously decided as he jumped off Franklin's bike, whilst the hoodlum looked on in confusion, realising that Trevor's eerie earlier misperception was in fact intended, and once again failed to remember Michael's warning to be able to fully read through Trevor. Trevor began jogging into the distance as sirens could be heard, and the former began hurling his hands in the air to signal Franlin to leave. "Go on! I won't be long – Meet up at the Pirate's In Men's Pants Casino, I'll book us a suuuu-iite ta'night!"

…

Location – Whitewood Estates – Las Venturas

1724 hrs – October 8

Trevor Phillips is attending a meeting

Trevor stood expressionless as he let the doormen of the safehouse frisk him down to his feet, a slight twitch across his upper left kneecap suggested a sign of comforted desire, however he hushed it out of his mind as the stout double chin of the man in front of him was enough to discourage any twisted fantasy. He was escorted through the main hallway and entered the lounge, looking back and forth at the many ominous faces that shadowed over him, until stopping himself dead in his tracks upon noticing a familiar face sitting in the main armchair, positioned in front of the windows so that all light or signs of life were blocked out.

"Ah….It's good to see you again Gio…I didn't expect to find you here though; you're a man of oldschool tactics, of cliché hit and runs in the big town of Liberty City…Not in the flashy lights of Las Venturas when even drug dealing tourists can come and set people on fire!" Trevor screeched, he reached out his hand to shake Giovanni's, however another two men stood firmly in his way as they unshuffled their arms and pretended to crack their necks into place, which Trevor found simply too childishly pathetic.

"Trevor Phillips…You've got some nerve calling my number after all this time – After that bank job that went wrong – and after you ran out of North Yankton without even telling me! Give me one good reason why I shouldn't kill you right now!" Giovanni relentlessly fired back, his voice had failed him as it broke quickly upon shouting to the top of his voice, and the ancient mobster was relegated back into his chair as he gasped for breath. Trevor held back his sadistic laughter at his age for manners.

"Well for starters, I've got a business proposal for you that might kickstart you operations – And your hip…" Trevor sneered, he looked over to Giovanni's bottle of wine and glasses and grinned with his buttery teeth glimmering onto Giovanni's eyes, and out of defeat, signalled his men to begin pouring drinks. "Seems like every wannabe gangster these days are running into trouble with our ol' Triad buddies from up past Europe – I've got ma'self a plan that can snatch away a big fat piece of cocaine under their noses without them knowing – I steal the motherload, and you pay me bigtime…"

Giovanni raised to his feet as he reached for his cane and began pacing back and forth, a stubborn pout forming within his beard. "How much coke are we talking here – I'm not too keen on making business arrangements with local nutjobs after previous experiences…" Trevor raised a brow in agitated disbelief as one of the guards drew a shotgun from the dining table next to the bookshelf, whilst Giovanni turned his back to the entrepreneur and allowed himself a sinful smirk.

"Mmm, well I'm no depressed accountant, but how does, oh let's say…35 bricks sound to you?" Trevor scoffed as he jumped to his feet, now two shotguns were trained on him as he restlessly twitched back and forth, like an animal being watched by its. Giovanni returned his attention to him and almost allowed a sign of anticipation to unfold upon his face, however he held all of his nerves intact and returned to Trevor.

"And this…'plan' of yours…You've got yourself a crew? You know what you're doing right – Everything is fully planned out?" Giovanni wistfully interrogated, he finally offered Trevor a glass of wine as he was about to drink one himself, until Trevor mockingly withdrew both glasses for himself, and began downing them all sharply.

"Oh of course amigo – I've scoped the place, got my boys all set on the job, just gotta make a few preparations; in order to steal some type of gear, you need to use some type of gear…And ya also gotta be on a type of gear – You still into speed by the way Gio?" Trevor rambled, his unsteadiness grew as he began sniffing at the holes of the shotguns, then began trying to stand on the tips of his toes to match the height of the guards whilst Giovanni looked on with falling patience, and eventually decided he had grown tired of the meeting.

"Very well then Mr Phillips, we have an arrangement…35 bricks of cocaine, for five million…A reasonable deal, wouldn't you agree?" Giovanni offered, he drew out his hand as a welcoming gesture whilst Trevor stood and almost shivered at the thought, knowing he was about to be robbed of what was going to be a very life-endearing crime.

"Make it six and ya got a deal – Take it or leave it, I can always sell it to other people Gio, and you don't want to start getting any ideas, you know what I'm like old pal…" Trevor warned in a slow fiendish yet juvenile tone, lowering his voice as if he were talking down to Wade or Ron again, and even with the two shotguns pointed at his back, both men knew it wouldn't be enough, and Giovanni dejectedly gave defeat.

"Fine, six million it is – No more – No less. Bring the cocaine here within a week, and if it is not brought, then you will not receive your money. If things work out, then we may discuss later business arrangments…" Giovanni interjected, he nodded his head as he looked to his bottle and tried to pour out another glass, however found that whilst he had his back turned, Trevor had chugged the entire bottle, yet was still able to stand elevated in a composed state, and as Trevor reached out his hand to Giovanni, Giovanni began shaking it, then pulled Trevor closer to him as he attempted to intimidate him once more. "But if things do not work out…Then you are a dead man."

"Now why is it people keep saying that to me on first dates? Jeee-sus, I told you years ago to give up the cigarettes, that stuff'll kill ya. And you gotta deal – When have I ever let you down huh? Mikey might have screwed up here or there or the rest of the crew too, but me…I'm reliable." Trevor hilariously protested, he quaked himself out of Giovanni's grip and began heading out to the door, satisfied with the turnout. Giovanni stood pulling his guards back from firing a shotgun pellet at his back, then brought himself down into the lounge.

"Wait a minute…Where's Gracie? This is the last time I let her out on her own for one night!" Giovanni stridently demanded, he attempted to jump back up onto his feet until he remembered his hip, and instead decided to just draw out his phone to make a call.

As Trevor left the house and began walking on his way, he chuckled unobtrusively at the elder's uproar, and began to remember even more of the dreaded first night of life in Las Venturas, then returned to planning his next job, and more specifically, who else he was going to have to assist him. "Well, guess you gotta make some new friends huh Trev? Damn I'm constipated…" Trevor thought outloud to himself as he walked further down the street, a pensioner passing him by as she strode along with her cane, slightly terrified as she hobbled along faster, and Trevor began assessing the back of his pants to determine whether he had followed through or not.

* * *

**And just like that, the preparation for the first heist in the story has begun, but how will Trevor steal the cocaine from the Triads without them knowing, who will be more involved, and more importantly, how does Trevor even know about the cocaine? Only time will tell what he is hiding...**

**R&R Please! Chapter 4 will be up asap!**


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